


Off To The Races

by BattleBelle23



Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007), You (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29841189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattleBelle23/pseuds/BattleBelle23
Summary: In which You was the true sequel for Gossip Girl.And Joe's new neighbor is a familiar face....
Relationships: Dan Humphrey/Blair Waldorf, Joe Goldberg/Love Quinn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Off To The Races

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own You or Gossip Girl or any of its characters.

Well, hello you.

Who are you?

Well, based on your jeans and T-shirt, you're nothing short of an ordinary joe. It's moving day, so you're trying to be extra comfortable today. But despite it being a fresh start, you seem to get in and out of the house and the moving van without taking any time to breathe. You want to hide, get this over and done with quickly. You're not excited about the move. You don't look around you and exhale with content at starting a new life at a perfect white-picket fence neighborhood. So, either you loved the life you've had before or you're worried about something following you back to your new one.

Oh, look. You've got a wife. And she's pregnant! Well, congratulations. Not too long now. Boy or girl, I wonder? Doesn't matter, because you're too scared about something else to care enough.

Now, here's where it gets interesting: you should be a happy man. You're moving into a perfect white-picket fence neighborhood, you've got a glowing, pregnant, beautiful wife. But here you are, looking like you're already plotting your next move.

You want to run. Of course you do. You always do. 

Joe Goldberg. Now Will Bettelheim.

You're so good at it. You even fooled me, once upon a time. Made me think you were just an innocent, if not boring and annoyingly pretentious, nice guy.

When Guinevere Beck disappeared, it didn't surprise me.

No one was surprised when my promiscuous blonde best friend disappeared either.

You certainly do have a pattern: first you fall for the charming blonde who everybody absolutely adores. Then you fall for the smart and willful brunette who matches your intellect, maybe even surpasses it.

How do I know she's smart? Because she's knocked up and you look absolutely miserable. She _wants_ you to stay and now you have no choice.

Well, then again, her taste in men is questionable and certainly makes me question just how smart she is.

Oh, but you knew just how to play it, didn't you?

You made yourself look like the victim: the nice guy who finished last. The one who did everything for people but got nothing in return. My guess? You did to Guinevere Beck what you did to my best friend and what you once did to me: you put her on a pedestal after seeing her once, you made up an image in your head of what she was and for a while, she followed. You were the boy no one noticed or wanted, and the girl everyone noticed and wanted didn't care about anyone else but you. Everything was great. Until it wasn't. Suddenly, that perfect girl-next-door turned into some evil temptress who used you. The girl you once saw as angelic was now the devil in disguise who had to go. 

And when you made sure she did, you did some mental gymnastics to somehow justify it all in your head, didn't you? Made it seem like it was some sort of vigilante-like justice act. Or worse, you made her the stepping stone to your path on your way of being a 'better person'.

But then again, you've always been good at rewriting history.

Isn't that right, Humphrey?

* * *

_**Joe** _

This is just the beginning. Because this is where I had to be exactly, where I had to be to meet you.

There you were, with your books and your sunshine, so close, but worlds away. I will figure out a way, a way to get to you.

See you soon...neighbor.

  
Turns out, a lot sooner than expected.

It's a tired old cliché, to ask for sugar from the neighbor. But luckily, when your wife is pregnant, it gives you all sorts of excuses to be a little desperate.

Specifically, she's craving strawberries and sugar. Now, I could just as easily go to Avarin to get the sugar. Or I could even walk to to the Whole Foods that was only a few blocks away. But neither of those options brought me closer to you.

So here I was, walking to your house.

Your house looks just like any other house in this new neighborhood. You're one of the handful of new residents who's moved in and settled already. You've got a flair for gardening, as proven by your immaculate rose bushes. No gnomes or birdhouses or extra front-yard decor. You don't like clutter or distractions. You saw the beauty and elegance in simplicity. But the roses show that you don't mind when people take a glance or two.

When I step in front of your door, I can smell a familiar scent. I can't place my finger on it. It's some sort of perfume. An expensive one, I think. It wasn't the soft, floral perfume that Love uses, or the the candy-vanilla scent Beck once used and it wasn't even the earthy violets that Candace once wore like a second skin.

Yours smelled like roses, but it was also woody. You were a classic kind of girl. Since you're living here in this overpriced new eco-friendly neighborhood, I'm guessing you're wealthy so it's probably an expensive perfume you bought at some boutique in Paris.

But the scent is so familiar. Where have I smelled it before...?

More importantly, why did it fill me with both fear and a sense of calm?

I ring your doorbell, eager to meet you. I can hear light, dainty footsteps coming to the door.

"Well, hello, you." you smiled with kind brown eyes, "Guess we're neighbors. I'm Ann. Ann Lambert."

They always say the past always comes back to haunt you. For the longest time, my past was just Candance. Then it was Beck. But no one else. Nothing else.

Suddenly, it all comes back to me.

Constance. Manhattan. The marriage. The lies. The cover-up. The fires.

Why I loved Beck so much. Her smile reminded me of your best friend's.

Why I loved Love even more, because her smile reminded me of yours.

"...Blair?"


End file.
